


Overture

by rinagh (RINAGH)



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Gen, uhura implied always makes me laugh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 14:04:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9902024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RINAGH/pseuds/rinagh
Summary: short snippet of the bridge crew hangin out





	

**Author's Note:**

> was a secret santa gift for sergeitorrijos.tumblr.com (pretty sure that's the spellin)

Scotty sighed, something people thought he either did too often or never had. The supposedly ‘jolly’ scotsman was rumoured to never get down by half the ship, said to be a cynic to rival the misleadingly-babyfaced russian by the other (mostly engineering) half. The third group- the right ones- had the benefit of years of service and close calls and camaraderie, however, so one could think of them as having a head start in the “Who Is Scotty?” race. The thought of these people- at this point, there was simply no other word than ‘friend’- was normally enough to bring a smile to Scotty’s features, but ‘thinking how much he cared for them’ met ‘remembering the time’ and ‘knowing there is no way he is going to fix this damn turbolift in time to catch dinner’ and he skipped the sigh, going straight in for the groan and hand on forehead.

“Asif I dinna have anough people ta disappoint,” The put-upon engineer groaned.

“Problem, mister Scott?” At seeing the older man start, Chekov gave a short laugh and put his hand on Scotty’s shoulder. “Just me, mister Scott. No grumpy keptin to ask vere his turbolift is, just little old Pavel, oh, vhat is this?” At this Chekov holds up a large box by the handle, “Oh, a tool kit, and it is belonging to me! Vhat a coincidence that I am being here with my tool kit at this broken turbolift,” The young russian, swaying a little, giggles a little, and Scotty is grimly impressed. Less than a minute together and Chekov’s already let slip that he’s tipsy.

“Not tha’ I wouldna appreciate the help, lieutenant, but aren’t ye still on duty? What’re ya doin’ drinkin’ on the clock?” Scotty admonished the now-startled young man.

“I have been having my tooth pulled, mister Scott!” Chekov grins to show off the hole in his otherwise remarkably straight row of teeth. He’d chipped the tooth a few days ago, during a tussle with some angry scientist who’d smacked him in the face with his own phaser and left a jagged mountain in the middle of those smooth white hills.

“If’n ye knew they were gonna gas ya, lad, why’n’t ya ask someone tae go with ye? I’m sure Uhura would’a gone even if’n ye hadn’t,” That was true. No one wanted a doped-up security chief wandering the halls, but it was Uhura who actually wanted him to be doing something else, namely sleeping it off in his quarters or at least resting, something he vehemently resisted no matter who suggested it. Through some unknown mind magick, however, Uhura could actually get him to do it. She somehow had the ability to make people- Scotty included- take care of themselves, and in this young lieutenant’s case, it was a sore necessity, else he’d blunder about the ship no matter what (exactly like this).

“Actually, no, don’ tell me. Ye said “ach, i can go all me lonesome, I’m a big boy,” aye? Let’s jus’ call Sulu and get ye home ‘afore ya pass out.”

The scotsman could probably manhandle Chekov into his quarters, but he would actually go with Sulu and it’d save them all a lot of effort. Buzzing the com on, he called sulu down to their position, then after a moment’s thought sent someone else down from engineering to finish up with the still-sparking turbolift he’d pretty much given up on himself. Mere moments later, Sulu jogs around the corner, looking ridiculously relaxed for someone who had just come from the other side of a massive starship. The man had achieved a sort of casual, easygoing state of comfort with both his body and his life Scotty could barely even dream about.

Sulu looked at him and, slipping into his trademark grin, simply said “What’s the problem, Scotty?” At seeing the engineer’s wave towards a somewhat excited-looking Chekov, who grinned right back at him, he shook his head and gestured Chekov- muttering a lot of things along the lines of ‘I am grown man’- over to him. He starts off down the hallway, slinging an arm across his temporary charge’s shoulders, murmuring a “C’mon, you” into the young russian’s ear to get him moving. “Y’know,” he starts suddenly, looking up at Scotty, “since we’re all together anyway, we could call Uhura when we’re back at his-” he pokes Chekov’s stomach, failing to break him from his sudden focus on the all-but-forgotten toolkit “-quarters and have that sitdown dinner we’re always too busy for,”

With a laugh, Scotty pushes open the door to the (not broken, thank the galaxy!) turbolift and steps inside. “Yer on, laddie.”


End file.
